Hostility
by seulpeodotexe
Summary: Shu was tired of watching Jiro self destruct. Zola's "bury your emotions" approach was gifting him with a false sense of control; one that was slowly destroying him.


Despite a common consensus throughout the group, Shu was not clueless. He wasn't up in the clouds, without any sort of awareness when it came to his surroundings. He paid attention - close attention - to everyone around him. He knew Marumaro hated the sound of thunder, Kluke was terrified of sleeping outdoors, and Bouquet didn't like being alone. Those fact weren't glaring; you could easily miss them if you really didn't care enough to look. Shu did. He cared because he wanted to avoid his friends' discomfort as much as possible.

Shu knew the most useless information when it came to Marumaru and Kluke, the two he'd bonded with the most. He knew enough about Bouquet to avoid her meltdowns, especially when it came to information a fiancee is undoubtedly supposed to know. Jiro and Zola? Everything he knew about them was accumulated from too much passive watching, a bit of eavesdropping, and a lot of nosy peeking around their belongings when he'd been their designated pack mule.

Zola was secretive. He wasn't entirely aware of it at the start, but Shu knew she was burying a lot under her facade of composure. She held a stoic face, threw out things she didn't need, covered herself in the most random places - legs, arms, hands, head; places Shu would've never guessed held so many secrets. She didn't talk about herself or her past, and she was skilled at directing conversations away from herself and onto others. Shu would wager she was a master manipulator; able to direct attention away from anything she didn't want others focusing on. Shu knew she didn't eat, hardly slept well, and refused to tell anyone when she was injured or sick. Peripheral vision was easy to trick, but Shu would wager he mastered his the day he saw her flinch after everyone's backs turned.

Jiro? Jiro was a disaster. Zola talked a big game every time Jiro so much as flinched, telling him to control himself. Calm down, control yourself, _don't let your emotions rule you._ It made Shu laugh enough Marumaro started to pick up on his breathy chuckles every time he heard the words. Jiro was dominated by his emotions. There was not a single moment of the day where Jiro was in any sort of control. He was brash and cruel _because_ he wasn't in control.

Shu looked up to Zola, but she was destroying Jiro with her lack of emotional competence. He'd overheard plenty of times Zola telling Jiro to ignore personal emotions. To throw them away because they're nothing but weakness. It hurt to watch Jiro's face flit between hurt and that fake, broken mask he wore every day. It shouldn't have been a surprise when Jiro broke, lashing out because he couldn't hold all this anger and confusion in anymore. Shu still pushed him. He was no better than Zola telling him to bite his lip and forget about it.

Shu watched Jiro get worse over time. The way his lips went from hardly noticeable to chapped, raw, and bloody. The way he pulled his sleeves a little farther over his hands, even in the sweltering heat as they traveled. No one else saw any change in him, but Shu saw each any every one. He thought that maybe Zola did too, and that's why she was suddenly more insistent on him bottling everything up.

Shu didn't really get a chance to talk to Jiro until the first night after Nene was defeated. When he'd voiced how hopeless he still felt, Shu wanted to scream. Of course he still felt hopeless. Of course he was still angry, hurt, and confused. Vengeance made nothing better. Fire never mixed well with itself. Nothing was fixed; it was just a bat being taken to an already broken vase. The only difference is one more "fix-it" was tossed out of his idea bank. Tape, glue, and rope don't work; so, that's it. There's no rebuilding him.

Bullshit.

"Jiro, you've gotta stop this." He'd voiced without a clear plan of where to go. He was tired of watching Jiro self destruct. He was tired of getting the brunt of a year of pain. "You've gotta stop thinking any of this-" Shu accentuated with a wave of his hand, "Is going to fix anything." He could see the hurt in Jiro's eyes turn to his trusty anger. The way his fists clenched by his side.

"No, listen to me. Don't get all raging pissed off yet," Shu pleaded, shocked as Jiro stayed silent. "I'm so tired of watching you do - _this_ \- and think it's going to do anything. I mean, it's crazy! You refuse to believe you need anything that doesn't involve revenge. Wake up, you need help.

"You need someone to talk to that won't just tell you to forget it and bury it. Don't argue with me. I care about Zola too but she's _wrong_. You have no control over yourself no matter what you think. You know how pissed off you are right now? Yeah, that's not control. That's you breaking down and refusing to acknowledge it. You can't handle your anger. It controls you." Shu felt it in his own lip as Jiro bit down on his own hard enough to draw more blood. Shu knew how that felt, to be so damn overwhelmed that you have no better way to ground yourself. His grandpa always told him he'd end up chewing his own off if he kept it up.

"You don't know anything about me!" Jiro suddenly shouted. Shu wasn't fazed; if anything, it just confirmed everything he'd ever thought. Jiro was so lost, so scared and pissed off. He was trapped in his anger.

"I know _everything_ about you. I know you hate the taste of turkey because it's too chewy. I know you can't drink dairy products because it makes you nauseous, but you still like milk flavored foods. I know you sleep on your left side and get restless when you can't because you're hurt. I know you like to read, and you're really fascinated by languages we don't speak. I know you cover your wrist with your hand because there's blood seeping through the fabric where you scratched at your skin.

"I know you had two parents you loved and a little sister you would trade your life for. I know you love toddlers because they remind you of your sister when she was younger. I know you were a nerd that loved school and got picked on by bullies for it. I know you're afraid of fire, and you hate being soaked. I know you're falling apart because you can't deal with this alone anymore. Stop pretending you're alone, because it's an old game. Tell Marumaro he knows nothing about you. Or better yet, tell Zola. I know you." Shu knew he was getting too agitated as he spoke, but he couldn't stand the accusation. Shu is not in the clouds. He knows his team.

"Why-" Jiro sighed. Shu took a deep breath as he stood up from where he'd been sitting. The stairs were cold, and the air was a little colder.

"I know you love snow. Especially when it's on those green trees." Shu wasn't sure why he added that last bit of information, but it seemed to snap whatever spell had been over them. One second Jiro was staring into his eyes, and the next he let out the most heartbreaking sob. It pounded through Shu's ears; all the repressed heartbreak shooting to the surface. Shu was quick to wrap his arms around the taller boy, the younger's hands instinctively rubbing at his chilled back. Jiro didn't hug him back, but he didn't pull away either. "You've gotta stop this." Shu whispered through a sad sigh.

"They're _gone_." Jiro sobbed, and suddenly Shu understood. Jiro never accepted his family's deaths. He had this twisted idea that if he killed Nene, destroyed Szabo, that his family might come back. That he wouldn't have to accept that they were dead. "This didn't change anything!" He screamed into Shu's shoulder, and all he could do was hold the older closer.

It took awhile for Jiro to calm down again, but by the time he had, the sun was already starting to peek over the water line. It left a beautiful pink hue that Shu always attributed to a new start, a brand new journey.

"Hey," Shu whispers as Jiro falls into his chest. His face buried itself in Shu's neck, tears soaking the already chilled skin of his shoulder.

"I feel-" Jiro paused to let out a sigh, "Better?" He questioned. Shu smiled and rested his own head atop Jiro's. He expected to be pushed away eventually. It wasn't as if Shu knew how Jiro felt about contact of any sort. That was the one thing Jiro never showed any disdain or want for.

"Good. You let yourself get too overwhelmed." Shu refused to speak any louder than a whisper, desperate to stay in this moment for even a little longer. Shu's goal was to help people, and this was part of that. Helping Jiro heal himself was part of his greater plan. How could he change the world when he couldn't even change one person's? "Tired?" Shu asked as Jiro slumped a little more. The older nodded but didn't move from Shu's embrace. It was a little uncomfortable with Jiro's crossed arms pressed against his abdomen, but it was okay. One step closer to it, anyway.

"Thank you." Jiro said as he pushed himself away from Shu. He wiped lazily at the tear tracks marking his skin.

"That's what friends are for." Shu assured, and with a shock Jiro offered him a small nod. The older awkwardly fidgeted for a moment before jogging up the stairs. He entered their hotel room slowly, not wanting to wake any of the others.

"Come on, moron." Jiro motioned for him to join, the insult light hearted for the first time since they'd met. Shu chuckled and shook his head before jogging up to join the older.


End file.
